


Sailing is the Worst Olympic Sport

by 127stars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1980 Olympics, 1980 Summer Olympics, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Drabble, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, M/M, Marauders, Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/127stars/pseuds/127stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James, Sirius, Remus and Peter attend the 1980 Olympic Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sailing is the Worst Olympic Sport

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly little drabble inspired by the 2016 Olympics! Feedback is adored either here or on my LJ (127stars.livejournal.com) or tumblr (127-stars.tumblr.com). Hope you enjoy the read!

**1\. JUDO**

"Is this...is this what judo is supposed to be like?" asked James uncertainly. "They look like two Ravenclaws bitching over an ancient runes translation."

"This is the Olympic Games, Prongs," said Remus reassuringly. "I'm sure we can trust that they're up to scratch."

Stretching back on his plastic seat, James remained unconvinced. "I don't know..." he said, narrowing his eyes at Remus suspiciously. "I still don't know why you wanted to get judo tickets in the first place, Moony. From where I'm sitting, it just looks like two blokes with their pecks out slapping each other around a bit and trying to get on top of one another.... _oh_." James stopped abruptly as he realised _exactly_ why Remus had been so insistent at watching the judo at the 1980 summer Olympics. "You duped us, Moony..." he muttered fondly.

"Quite the opposite," rebutted Remus, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward in his seat appreciatively as the athletes circled each other in the arena. "When have you ever known me to show even the slightest shred of interest in any kind of sport?"

"It's the cardigans, I'm convinced..." James continued to mutter to himself, shaking his head. "They give him this aura of respectability and purity that he has done absolutely nothing to deserve..."

"Too right," Sirius interjected, shaking James out of his mutterings with a well-intentioned jab to the ribcage. "C'mon Prongs, this is just like _Enter the Dragon_!"

"This is nothing like _Enter the Dragon_ , the pinnacle of kung-fu cinema that it is," James said sulkily, rubbing his ribs and glaring at Sirius before delivering a swift slap to the jaw in retribution with a triumphant "Hi-YA!". Sirius and James then continued to rambunctiously karate chop each other while Peter and Remus silently wished they'd never introduced them to Muggle martial arts films.

"Hey look..." interrupted Peter, nodding to Sirius and Remus as the British athlete delivered a quick slap to his opponent, before countering a not-so-intimidating flurry of jabs delivered at arms length. "It's you."

"It certainly is..." murmured Remus appraisingly, raising an eyebrow as the athletes dropped to the floor, each struggling manfully to gain dominance by pinning the other to the ground.

"What? Oh, Merlin's balls Moony..."

"Anyway," announced Sirius, patting Peter consolingly, who had his head in his hands. "Irrespective of the apparent LIES we have been fed by the muggle kung-fu movie industry and my blazing victory against dear Prongs-Suey here, I can conclude that judo is indeed a sport for little girls. And Remus and I, Wormy dear," continued Sirius, winking somewhat lasciviously, "are well versed in the epitomes of each other's manliness."

"However," said Remus absently, as the match they watching reached its conclusion. "I should like it if you were to bow to me afterwards."

"In your dreams, Remus"

Peter frowned. "After what?"

At this final comment, James' growing exasperation finally reached his limit, which he demonstrated by gracelessly shoving Sirius off his seat.

**2\. GYMNASTICS**

"Sirius mate," said James bracingly, slinging an arm around Sirius' shoulders before continuing with his best pre-match tenor. "You can do this. You've got this, mate."

"No. No. I haven't. I can't!" Sirius wailed in the unbecoming manner characteristic of Moaning Myrtle.

"So much for him being the epitome of manliness..." mumbled Peter, eyebrows raised. James looked at him in exasperation, both eyes exaggeratedly wide under his smudged lenses.

"Oh that's...that's unfortunate." Remus grimaced as an emphatic hiss ran through the crowd. "Oh wow...that doesn't look good."

"SEE?" Sirius crowed triumphantly, clutching at James' shoulders with rather clammy hands, which James bore resolutely and without remark in testament to their long friendship. "How can I watch this with my constitution?"

"Oh please," remarked Remus, rolling his eyes. "With that same constitution which unquestioningly ate the six year old chocolate frog we found down the side of Peter's bed in seventh year?"

"This is different," Sirius muttered defensively.  

"But that was disgusting," offered Peter. "It was green and kind of swollen..."

"Eating an old chocolate frog is completely different to witnessing potential DEATHS and BROKEN NECKS in the sordid name of sporting glory!" Sirius' voice had risen to a somewhat alarming pitch.

James shook Sirius by the shoulders and with one hand grabbed Sirius' jaw, forcing him close to his own face. Meanwhile, the crowd began to applaud solemnly as the gymnast was carried from the arena by a group of paramedics. "Right, Pads, stop being such a bloody drama queen about all this..."

"He can't help it, it's in his nature."

"Oh you'd know all about that, wouldn't you Remus..."

"As unremitting witness to your daily big gay hair panic, I'd say yes, yes I would."

"Oh really? Well..."

"Will you two bloody well stop bickering? Merlin's mammaries, you sound like an old married couple already." James raked his fingers over his scalp, even in his exasperation not forgetting his own  reputation for frankly fantastic hair that he felt honour bound to uphold. "Padfoot," James continued, giving Sirius' head a small shake. "You can do this. You're a marauder! For Merlin's sake, you watch a ruddy werewolf transform every month!" James lowered his voice to an urgent hiss at a sharp look from Remus. "How is this so different to when Moony broke Remus' arm last month?"

"S'completely different," said Sirius sulkily, jerking away from James and screwing his eyes shut resolutely. "Remus doesn't wear a leotard, for one."

"A fact for which we are all grateful," intoned Peter, earning him an affectionate shove from Remus. "Oh come on, at least open your eyes," Peter continued. "Why did you get us gymnastics tickets anyway, if you're not even going to watch?"

Sirius turned the full force of the Black rage on Peter, who to his credit simply returned Sirius' haughty glare with a innocent, if slightly absent, smile. "I got gymnastics tickets..." Sirius began witheringly. "I got gymnastics tickets because I was under the impression there would be sashaying and glittery leotards and aesthetically pleasing ribbon-waving and NOT a harrowing and entirely disturbing display of the many ways a human body can be broken!" Sirius stood, drawing himself to his full height and lifting his chin aristocratically. "OBVIOUSLY I was misinformed!"  

 

**3\. WOMEN'S BEACH VOLLEYBALL**

"Prongs?"

"Prongs!"

"Earth to Prongs?"

"Proooooooongs. Prongalicious. O Quidditch deity. O bearer of immaculate abdominals. O tousled hair apparition of my fantasies."

"James?"

"OI, LILY EVANS IS A MUNTER!"

"Hey, what? What? No she is PERFECTION! How dare..." As Sirius, Peter and Remus fell about laughing, James scowled and punched Sirius on the arm. "Oh, sod off Padfoot."

"Not likely, now that I've finally earned your attention."

"Which I'm sure Lily will be pleased to hear is so easily diverted," Remus continued, raising his eyebrows and looking knowingly between James and the women's Olympic beach volleyball team of Brazil.

"As if you can talk, Moony. You were ogling the bollocks off those judo guys earlier. Besides, there is absolutely nothing wrong with a little professional admiration between sportspeople..."James trailed off as a particularly spectacular serve was made on pitch, necessitating the aforementioned women's Olympic beach volleyball team of Brazil to make some impressive leaps and jumps for the ball.

"Oh, _professional admiration_ , I'm sure," Peter mimicked, making an obscene hand gesture as an attempt at manly camaraderie.

"Wormtail, you are vile. That is vile," sighed Sirius.

" _Au contraire_ , Padfoot," countered Peter lightly. "This is simply an expression of the healthy appetite of a young male in the prime of his life."

"If you're in the prime of your life mate..." Sirius began, before the better side of his brain kicked in and shut his mouth for him.

"My question is," Remus began, popping a kernel of popcorn in his mouth.

"Wait, where did that popcorn come from?!" Sirius exclaimed. Remus gave him in a blank look.

"As I was saying, my question is," he continued, unabashed. "Where do they get the sand from? And what are the discerning features of _beach_ volleyball, as opposed to regular volleyball? Are there any other types of volleyball? And how has it qualified as an Olympic sport as opposed to other, and arguably more pleasurable, seaside activities such as paddling, sunbathing and sandcastle-building?"

"Moony, do shut up." James whimpered. "You're ruining this beautiful moment for me."

 

**4. SAILING**

"So..." James began, whistling through his teeth. "This is..."

"Mind-numbingly boring? Unbelievably dull? Devastatingly tedious?"

"Ravagingly monotonous?" supplied Remus.

"Very good, Remus." Sirius said shortly. "In short, completely, all-encompassingly, wholly and unremittingly TIRESOME."

"Okay, okay, I think we get the picture!" James barked as Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "To be fair though, Pete," he continued. "What in Merlin's name possessed you to get us tickets to the sailing?!"

"I thought you would like it after we watched _The Count of Monte Cristo_..." Peter told his shoes, shamefaced.

"Oh yes, this is positively _swashbuckling_." Sirius pronounced icily. Remus folded his arms and resolved to stay out of it.

"Let's look on the bright side, lads!" James attempted, although the strain showed in his voice. "We might not be able to see a bloody thing that's going on, we may just be staring at small, indistinguishable specks of colour in the middle of the ruddy ocean, we may not be able to even hear the commentary thanks to the shoddy tannoy system..."

"Yeah, thanks for the support mate," Peter grumbled under his breath.

"BUT," James continued valiantly. "All hope is not lost. Men, let us not waste this day to sniping and bitching!"

"If only that was an Olympic sport," interrupted Sirius wickedly. "Moony'd get gold." Remus flicked him on the nose.

"Hey Moony," James continued resolutely, determined not to waste their final afternoon at the Olympics. "If you had to, what sport would you compete in?"

"Chess," said Remus blandly, not even bothering to look up from the book he had mysteriously procured from somewhere about his person.

 "Oh come on, Moony, at least put your bloody book away," James hissed, widening his eyes at Remus and jerking his head violently in Peter's direction. It made him look like a particularly irritable owl. Remus told him so.

"Why should I?" Remus continued mildly, turning a page. "Completely lacking in excitement and rippling abdominals as this apparent sport is, there is nothing here to hold my attention."

"I can definitely see you as a synchronised swimmer, Remus," Sirius mused. "It would appeal to your natural grace and sense of rhythm..."

"It would appeal to nothing more than your desire to see me in very, very tiny swimming shorts," Remus countered, swiping Sirius over the head with his book.

"Now that's an image none of us needed," Peter grumbled again, wiggling his toes and sitting on his hands.

"Come on!" James desperately tried to salvage the plummeting mood. "So, Moony's a synchronised swimmer. Wormtail, Padfoot, what would you do?"

"Fencing," said Sirius, without hesitation. "Obviously."

"For it is the only sport which could extol your virtues of natural grace, chivalry and lightning-fast reflexes?" Remus asked in a bored tone of voice.

"Well, exactly Remus! Got it in one! _En guard!"_ Sirius yelled, poking Remus enthusiastically in the groin. While Remus caught his breath, Sirius reached out and ruffled Peter's hair. "What about you, Wormy?"

"I'm not sure," mused Peter. "What do you think, Prongs?"

"For me? Greco-Roman wrestling, of course. The manliest of sports."

"You wouldn't last three seconds," Remus remarked.

"Moony! How dare you cast aspersions on my wrestling prowess!"

"I'm sure Evans would appreciate the sight of your slick, oiled, puny little body being pummelled into the ground though, hey Prongs?" Sirius added, warming up to another _en guarde_ which James managed to anticipate, slapping his hands away.

"We don't need any more insights into your sick fantasies, thank you Mr Padfoot." he said sharply, in a frighteningly accurate impression of McGonagall at her most disciplinarian. A moment passed. "Hey," James yelped, almost forgetting to be insulted. "In your perverted fantasies can you at least replicate and acknowledge my godlike and muscular physique?"

"Godlike? What, as in Buddha?" Sirius replied lazily.

"The same godlike physique that put away those six pumpkin pasties, three chocolate frogs and two chicken sandwiches I saw you scoff earlier?" Remus wheezed, still recovering from Sirius' fencing 'prowess'.

"Well, at least we can agree on one thing," Peter sighed, crumpling up his ticket and moving delicately out of reach as James launched himself at Remus and Sirius, who were both holding their sides and cackling like witches. "Sailing is officially the worst Olympic sport."


End file.
